


My Love Will Keep You Warm Throughout the Night

by BeauBrummellBaby



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Bottom Dysphoria, M/M, Tentacle Sex, Trans Character, Trans Male Carlos (Welcome to Night Vale), Trans Male Character, phalloplasty (but like. weird.), pre-Episode 100, yes i made cecil jr. as a character tag so help me god he will be fanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeauBrummellBaby/pseuds/BeauBrummellBaby
Summary: Anything is possible in Night Vale. Even learning how to love yourself and your boyfriend properly.
Relationships: Carlos & Nilanjana Sikdar, Carlos/Cecil Palmer, Cecil Palmer & Nilanjana Sikdar, Josie Ortiz & Cecil Palmer
Comments: 4
Kudos: 81





	My Love Will Keep You Warm Throughout the Night

**Author's Note:**

> For Soar, Lucas, Logan, Jeff, Rio, and everyone in the Night Vale discord. Title from "You're My Home" by Billy Joel, which is honestly one of the most Cecilos songs I've ever encountered. This is truly my masterwork and I've been working on it since December (with a slight break to focus on my earlier Cecilos fic, which had a time deadline on it).

It's unhurried and heavy, hot and filthy the way Carlos strokes Cecil in the vague direction of completion, grinding himself lazily against Cecil's thigh. Cecil involuntarily tenses his leg at one particularly careful stroke, and the added pressure against Carlos' cock makes him shiver and whimper against his boyfriend's mouth. He's painfully wet, would be sliding off Cecil's lap if he wasn't holding him in place, but Cecil says nothing. They've agreed not to mention their… differences in anatomy.

Cecil moans, an otherworldly sound that Carlos feels through his entire body. "I wish you could fuck me right now," he says almost casually once the kiss breaks.

Carlos smiles against his boyfriend's neck, murmuring "then you should have brought my rod with you," and punctuating it with a gentle nip at the soft skin. His hand keeps working, but his hips still and his head falls into the crook of Cecil's shoulder.

"Carlos." Cecil grabs the smaller man's wrist, stilling its movements on his cock. "Are you okay?"

When Carlos meets Cecil's eyes, he smiles, but there is nothing behind it. His own eyes are distant and vaguely cold. "Of course, sweetie. You know I'm always fine."

"In the long run, sure. But something's bothering you right at this moment, isn't it?"

Carlos' expression softens and he strokes at Cecil's jaw, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips so different from the ones they exchanged minutes ago. Cecil runs a reassuring hand up Carlos' chest, resting on his shoulder to hold him close. "I love you," he whispers when the kiss breaks.

"I love you too, bunny," Cecil purrs, "but that wasn't an answer to the question."

"I want you, Cecil. I want you so much I don't have words for it." He hesitated, ghosting his fingers across his boyfriend's chest. "You've made me at home in this town, in our relationship, in you. But- nothing has ever made me at home in my own body." Carlos pulls his lab coat shut to cover his bare crotch, a sight which Cecil would have found unbearably hot in any other circumstance. "As much as I hate to admit it, I despise myself for… what I don't have."

"Oh, Carlos.  _ Perfect _ Carlos. I forget how different your own view of you is from mine." Cecil kisses Carlos' cheek reassuringly. "I would do anything to make you feel at home. But if you still hate your body, then I'll love it enough for both of us."

"Well damn," Carlos sputters, "now I'm mad I can't fuck you right this second like you deserve."

Cecil blushes and giggles. "Can I suck you off?"

"Not today," Carlos manages once his brain kicks back into gear, having derailed at hearing that. "Don't get me wrong, I want you, I want this, but…"

"Of course." Cecil blushes again, batting his eyelashes. "I do have an idea of how to finish us both off, you can stop me if you don't like it…"

"Yes. Do it."

Cecil picks Carlos up as he stands up from the office chair, moving a few steps to lay him down on the most empty lab table he can find and climbing atop him. Carlos whimpers, but not out of discomfort. Slowly at first, Cecil grinds his erection down against the smaller man's folds. "Is this good for you?"

"Lights in the sky yes," Carlos punctuates his moan with a roll of his hips. "I'm almost there."

Cecil buries his face in Carlos' neck, speeding up his hips and sucking a hickey into his dark, delicate skin. He's close himself, having been teased for ages before the interruption. He can't really find it in himself to complain though, not when Carlos is writhing and keening underneath him. He's finally pushed over the edge when Carlos gives his hair a sharp tug as he comes, twitching and whining through the aftershocks. Cecil himself whines as he stains the front of his boyfriend's t-shirt.

"Dangit," Carlos mutters, looking down at his shirt. "Should have undressed more fully."

Cecil pushes himself off the table and picks up two pairs of pants from the floor, handing one to Carlos and slipping into the other one. "I think we did our best, babe." He takes off his vest and sets it on the table. "Here, temporary fix."

"Thanks, Ceec." Carlos shrugs off his lab coat and slips the vest on over the ruined t-shirt. He's still breathing heavily, eyes half-lidded and smile half-formed from afterglow. "You're heading out?"

"[Weather report](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9XwnIlnQvMY) only lasts so long," Cecil chuckles. "See you at home? I'll cook for us."

"Sure babe." Carlos hooks his fingers into Cecil's belt loops and pulls him into a kiss, buckling his belt and cinching his tie for him before breaking the kiss. "We can put on a western when I get home."

A short time later, Carlos turns his laboratory radio back on just in time to hear Cecil's voice.

"Welcome back, Night Vale! I was just spending some time with the most incredible man in town. I'm sure you're familiar with my boyfriend, Carlos the scientist. Well, I dropped by his lab earlier where he let me help him with the most INTERESTING experiments…"

* * *

A documentary plays in the background as Carlos tangles his fingers in Cecil's hair, holding him in place where he sucks hungrily. Carlos hooks his ankles together near Cecil's chest, letting his knees drape over the larger man's shoulders. He's long since given up trying to understand the documentary; frankly, with the way Cecil is groaning and swirling his tongue, Carlos can barely hear anything over the rush of blood in his ears.

"Babe, I'm close."

Cecil only hums in response, the vibration travelling through his pubic bone and the internal parts of his clitoris. It's enough to put him on the edge, and he wants to warn Cecil about this, but seeing the blissed-out look on the face between his legs gives him the push he needs to cum suddenly, violently. His thighs quiver, and his dick twitches as he clenches involuntarily, but none of this stops Cecil. Both of his tattooed hands come up to Carlos' hips, lifting them up off the couch and doubling his efforts on his oversensitive cock.

"Ahh… Ceec, what the ffff-"

Carlos feels his entire body shake, like a strip of magnesium stuck between the rings of a Bunsen burner. He's going to burn, he  _ is _ burning, but any second he's going to lose his body to the white-hot flame which he both fears and needs in equally immense measure. He wants to rest, to let his breathing return to normal, but he hasn't stopped cumming for at least a full minute now. Finally, Carlos gives up trying to hold on to the feeling. He lets himself collapse, feeling an intense warmth flood his body.

When Cecil pulls away, he's grinning madly and his mouth is wet, but not with spit. "Did you know you could squirt?" He growls, his voice hoarse.

"No," Carlos gasps.

Cecil presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his still-quivering thigh. "Now you do," he says as he untangles himself from Carlos' legs.

"I'd finish you off, but I don't think I can move."

"Don't worry about it. That ship has sailed."

"When?" Carlos giggles. "You had both hands on me the whole time."

Cecil winks. "That doesn't always stop me." He crawls forward and drops, boneless, covering Carlos like a blanket. "Are you okay?" He asks after a pause, lovingly tracing the faded surgical scars on Carlos' perfectly flat chest.

Carlos sighs. "I wish I had a dick. A real one, not just a prosthetic. I wish my body could synthesize testosterone, or at least respond well enough to it that I could take it."

"Why haven't you had surgery, like you did for your chest?" Cecil questions, thumbing the empty space where Carlos' nipple would be.

Carlos ruffles Cecil's hair, hiding a kiss there for good measure. "There's really not that many options. The best anyone can do is cut a piece of skin and muscle from my arm, form it into something vaguely penis-shaped, and attach it. I hear it doesn't work as well as it's supposed to, plus you've got to live with the horrible scarring on your arm… I don't know. It's a lot of money and effort for something that isn't even fully functional."

"Wow." Cecil shudders, feeling the skin of his forearms crawl. "You've sure done your research."

"I'm a scientist, Ceec. It's my job."

Cecil knows without looking that Carlos is smiling. But he also knows it's a sad smile, like he's trying to distract himself from some deep, dull yet intense pain. Cecil knows all of Carlos' smiles. This one is his least favorite. He focuses on the ones he likes more, the ones he can see- the smile-shaped curves of the faded scars on his smooth bronze chest. These smiles he kisses softly, chastely, until the lull of sleep overtakes him.

* * *

"I just don't get it, Josie," Cecil grumbles into the bag of imaginary popcorn. "The more I love Carlos, the sadder it makes him. Because he doesn't love himself."

"I'm sure he does, Cecil, just maybe not in a way you understand." She hands Cecil his bowling ball, taking the bag of imaginary popcorn. Erika steals a few pieces. Cecil cannot legally acknowledge this.

"But he doesn't!"

"Hush, Cecil. I'm too old to be wrong." After Cecil bowls and sits back down, the old woman continues. "Your Carlos. He's alive, healthy, isn't he?"

"Why- yes…"

"Which means he at least loves himself enough to keep himself healthy. It's not easy, baby. He wouldn't make the effort if he didn't really want to."

Cecil bowls again, not really aiming at either remaining pin. Erika knocks one over anyways, giving him a thumbs-up. He pretends not to notice. "Then why does he do this? I want to believe you, but none of this looks like love to me."

Josie sets the popcorn down next to Cecil's chair. "Remember when Megan Wallaby got her body?"

"Yes…" says Cecil, unsure of where this is going.

"Do you think she agreed to be attached to that body because she hated herself, or because she loved herself enough to want more out of life?"

"But Megan is happy now," Cecil whines. "Carlos isn't."

"Self-hatred and anger at life might be holding hands with each other, but there's still some distance between them." Josie hands off her ball to Erika (or was it Erika? Cecil always has trouble telling the Erikas apart) to let her bowl for her. "It sounds to me like Carlos wants more out of his life, his body than he thinks he can have. He wants it because he loves his life- and might I point out that a lot of that is due to you, Cecil- but he's frustrated because he thinks he can't get what he wants."

Cecil is about to respond when Teddy Williams walks over. "Josie! Cecil!" Teddy pauses for what he deems to be an appropriate acknowledgement of Erika, Erika, and Erika. Which is nothing more than a pause, of course, because the Erikas don't exist. They appreciate the sentiment though.

"Teddy! How's it going, kid?" Josie gestures for him to sit down between her and Cecil.

"Oh, I can't complain. Business is business, and at least half my business is fun!"

"What ever happened to the militia?" Cecil mostly just asks to be polite, but he has been itching to mention the Desert Flower militia on the news for some time.

"Funny you should ask, Cecil! I did some redecorating around here, including setting up a hidden shrine to Huntokar where the militia and I leave food offerings. I can assume with confidence that this is the only reason the underground civilization has not broken through the bricked-up alley to declare war on us once again."

Cecil nods. It only makes sense.

"And I know the city council already erected a monument, but I did set up a plaque to commemorate the Apache tracker."

"That's thoughtful of you, Teddy, but wasn't that jerk a racist embarrassment to us all?"

"Oh, absolutely," Teddy replies. "That's why it says nothing more than 'Spasiba, jerk'. And is also buried beneath the floorboards." He sighs, rocking for a second before regaining his thoughts. "So! Since we're no longer at war for the foreseeable future, the militia is now another bowling league. So that worked out!"

"That's nice, Teddy, but you never said what happens outside of work," Josie nudges, both verbally and physically. "You can't expect me to believe that bowling is the only thing in your life right now!"

Teddy shakes his head. "Oh, I wish that were true. But I've been so bored lately that all I've done is stay here and work." His arms fold as he leans back. "I can't remember the last interesting thing I've done, not since Megan Wallaby's full-body transplant anyways."

A switch clicks in Cecil's brain. "You're a surgeon?"

"I own a bowling alley, yes."

Cecil twitches. Vibrates, almost. "What do you know about… um… phalloplasty?"

Teddy shudders. "Traditionally, you'd have to be desperate to go through with it. Although, there's been some discussion amongst the surgical students at Night Vale Community College… I think there's something we could try."

* * *

The next day, Cecil rushes home from the station at an inhuman pace. When he's certain he's still alone, he sheds his clothes and searches the closet for Carlos' "I'm definitely getting laid" lab coat. He sets up the television in their living room to play the most scientifically accurate documentary he can think of (Saw IV; Cecil personally can't handle the gore but he likes the effect it has on his boyfriend). Finally, he pulls some petals from the carnation Old Woman Josie had given him from her garden, leaving a trail of the glowing green petals from the front door to the bedroom. He lies down on their bed, in what he hopes is a seductive position, and lays the flower (whose petals had already grown back a lovely shade of radioactive) across his bare chest.

Cecil reaches into his nightstand and retrieves a condom and some lube, laying them next to the glowing flower. Now all he can do is wait, the stillness agonizing and sweet. He closes his fingers around the sturdy rod in the pocket of the lab coat and strokes it absentmindedly. He finds his hips shifting, seeking friction from the plug he'd put in during the day's weather report[.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HfXPW1KeVR8) It's not enough to do anything other than make the edges of his brain pleasantly fuzzy, but he won't do anything more. Not until Carlos is home.

Speak of the devil. As soon as Cecil hears keys jingling in the door, he opens the remote app on his phone and signals the documentary to begin playing. He'd really like to see Carlos at his most… scientific.

"Cecil?" His soft voice rings, albeit muffled by distance and the sounds of a very scientifically accurate depiction of an autopsy. "Cecil, honey, I'm h- oh, Lights in the sky."

So he found the documentary. Good. Cecil hoped he would notice that before the flower petals, and that it would let the scientifically horny side of his brain take over before the scientifically inquisitive side became too focused. If the way the bedroom door slammed open a few seconds later was any indication, the plan had worked rather well.

"Cecil." Just the sound of his caramel voice, husky and commanding, makes Cecil spread his legs and arch his back involuntarily. "Cecil," he growls again, now kneeling on the bed between his boyfriend's knees.

"Hmm?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm absolutely going to fuck you into next week," Carlos says, stroking Cecil to full hardness with a maddeningly delicate touch, "but what is all this for?"

Cecil sits up and tangles a hand in Carlos' long curls, kissing him softly. "I love you." Another soft kiss, this time ending with a gentle nip at his bottom lip. "I want you." A deeper kiss as he leans back onto his elbow, pulling Carlos on top of him. "I do now, and I always will. So don't- oh fuck- don't take this as any kind of rejection, or thinking you're anything less than perfect because I would never-"

"Cecil what's going on."

Cecil falls fully onto his back, blushing that indescribable color that he always does when he's flustered. His arms come up to cover all of his eyes. "I talked to Teddy Williams at the bowling alley. He says he and the surgical students at the community college have been working on some experimental procedures, I mean-" Cecil drops his arms from his face but his main eyes are unfocused, third eye shut tight. "He thinks it's possible to get you a dick, without. Uh. You know." His third eye blinks open cautiously. "He… wants to talk to you? If that's okay-"

Cecil hardly finishes the word before Carlos is kissing him ravenously, the kind of kiss that borders on painful from the sheer amount of want- no, need- it expresses. Cecil lets himself surrender completely to Carlos' control for this moment.

"Forget next week," Carlos growls. "Get yourself ready. I'm gonna fuck you into next year."

Cecil flips them both over, undressing Carlos as quickly as he can without tearing his clothes. "I'm already taken care of."

Carlos shrugs out of his flannel and lab coat and gives Cecil a surprisingly delicate kiss while Cecil unbuttons and pulls away his pants. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Don't go sappy on me; we both know you don't believe in luck."

"In the absence of a scientific explanation, I can believe many things." Carlos' touch grows desperate again, his words coming out breathless between moans and kisses. "There is no rationale, other than luck, for what you are to me."

Cecil blushes deeply, a color out of space that defies description. "If you keep talking like that," he murmurs, bringing up a hand to stroke Carlos' lips with his thumb, "I'll be finished before we even get started." When Carlos smiles in response, he kisses a line down his square jaw, his flat sculpted chest, past the dark downy fuzz on his stomach and ending near his crotch. He nuzzles at the waistband of the harness. "Can I get you ready?"

Carlos only nods in response, trying desperately to regain composure. It's not like he can pretend Cecil doesn't affect him, even if he wants to, but he'd still like to have some dignity about it. Dignity he'll surely lose if he attempts to speak while watching his boyfriend coax the rod into his prosthetic, sucking on the silicone teasingly as it becomes erect.

"Cecil, please." He's trying not to beg but it's really becoming too much. Cecil responds by hooking the prosthetic back into its harness so that the back of the rod presses against Carlos' dick. When Cecil reaches for the lube, Carlos uses his momentary distraction to switch their position. "Stay there," he pants as he kneels above the other man like a mountain (only- unlike a mountain- definitely real), like a tidal wave about to crash violently- no, like a shrine begging to be worshipped. Cecil complies.

He watches hungrily as Carlos stands to finish shucking off his pants then pounces back onto the bed. Carlos is in his element, dominating and caring for Cecil completely. At times like this, Cecil loves nothing more than to offer himself up and be taken. He lets Carlos press one of his own knees up to his chest and purrs when his plug is replaced with the first shallow thrust of Carlos' cock.

Carlos is wordless for a bit, letting his brows furrow and a few soft grunts escape his mouth as he thrusts slowly and gently. Each thrust grows deeper until he is fully sheathed, at which point he groans and drops his head to rest their foreheads together. "My beautiful Cecil," he whispers, "I love you with all that I am."

Cecil is about to respond, but a sharp thrust steals the breath from his lungs.

-

Later, when they've cleaned each other up, the pair lie on their sides facing each other. Carlos strokes Cecil's face delicately, dreamily, as if committing it to memory. His third eye blinks slowly as he smiles. A thousand "I love you"s transmit through Carlos' fingertips as they graze Cecil's cheekbones, his soft warm lips, his uneven stubble, his neck blooming with bruises the shape of Carlos' mouth. Cecil hears them all.

"I can't believe it's finally possible," Carlos says after a long while. "You've made it possible. Thank you."

"I would do anything for you, my sweet Carlos," Cecil murmurs. "You tell me I've made you a home, which I've been glad to do. But what I've never told you is… you're my home."

Carlos rolls onto his back, biting his lip and taking in a sharp breath. "That's not scientifically possible," he finally says with a nervous giggle.

"Neither am I." Cecil hasn't retreated, still laying on his side and beginning to languidly trace Carlos' face with a single, delicate finger. He smiles when Carlos rewards him with a kiss on the hand. "I love every inch of you already," he purrs, "but soon there will be more of you for me to love." Carlos says nothing in response, simply opting to pull him into a proper goodnight kiss.

* * *

A short time later, or, what would be considered a short time for this sort of thing if time were real, Carlos pulls Cecil's hand into his lap and links their fingers together. Teddy's doctor friend, whose name Carlos didn't quite catch but who apparently specialized in limb attachment, looks at the pair expectantly. "So, mister, uh, Mr. Scientist, is it? Is it alright if I ask a personal question?"

Carlos considers that, given they're discussing his dick, nothing helpful can be asked that isn't a personal question. He doesn't say this, only nods.

"Why haven't you taken hormones? Is it by choice?"

Taken aback by the question, Carlos stiffens. Cecil squeezes his fingers reassuringly. "Allergies," he replies after a pause. "Where I came from, there was only one option for testosterone, injections, and I found that I was severely allergic to the carrier oil used in the suspension." Carlos only uses such clinical language when he's upset, Cecil recognizes. He drags his thumb over Carlos' knuckles. "I haven't found any other options."

The doctor types a note onto his tablet then looks back up. "There is one I can think of. One of your available options for the…  _ appendage _ , includes its own endocrine system, if that's something you'd like to t-"

"Done," Carlos says with a jump. "Whatever it is, I choose that one." He's rocking as he talks, which Cecil can only take as a good sign.

-

"So?" Cecil nudges Carlos' shoulder playfully when they're out getting ice cream later. "How do you feel?"

"I don't have words for it yet. I don't know if or when I will."

He smiles fondly. "Neat."

Carlos giggles. "Superneat." Spontaneously, he presses a kiss to Cecil's shoulder, even though the sequins of his dress scratch at his lips. "I should warn you, babe. I, uh. I've been known to have an.  _ Interesting _ . Reaction to anaesthesia."

"Oh?"

* * *

Cecil fidgets in the waiting room, petting his arms in an attempt to make his tattoos stop squirming. They flail indignantly, and he can't find it in himself to blame them.

There's a woman sitting across from him, has been for a while. He recognizes from her worn lab coat that she must be a friend of Carlos', but which one? He knows it's rude to approach her without first pointing and ominously calling her an interloper, but Cecil is too nervous to follow proper etiquette.

"Hi, I'm Cecil."

"Nilanjana Sikdar," the woman says as she gestures for him to sit next to her. "I listen to your show."

"Thanks." This isn't doing much for his nervousness, but it's better than nothing. "So, how do you know Carlos?"

Nilanjana smiles. "He was finishing his degree when I was starting mine. Then I needed a place to live, so we ended up being roommates."

Cecil listens fondly, assessing her. Like Carlos, she's on the short side and has lovely, dark skin and long, dark hair. Unlike Carlos, her skin is more mahogany than bronze, and her hair is frizzy and mussed, like she has more important things to focus on than keeping her hair neat. "Cool," he says when he realizes he hasn't said anything in a while.

"Supercool. He's the best roommate I've ever had."

Warmth blooms in Cecil's chest. They have similar speech patterns, so one must have picked it up from the other somewhere along the line. The only difference is the faint Chicagoan accent at the edges of Nilanjana's tone.

"So, are you the one driving him home later?"

Cecil nods.

Nilanjana laughs, the kind of laugh that starts in the nose and sounds painful until it finally breaks out of the mouth. "I am  _ so _ sorry for you." Before Cecil can ask why, she pulls out her phone and opens her photo gallery. "You have to promise not to tell anyone about this," she says, scrolling back until she finds a folder labeled 'Carlos blackmail'. "He will absolutely kill me."

"I… promise?"

It's an impressively large folder, filled mostly with videos. She opens one of the only still images in the folder, a grainy snapchat of a young Carlos asleep at a lab table, his arms wrapped in a vice grip around a comically large Ehrlenmeyer flask. "Red Bull officially banned in the lab", reads the caption. Another still image shows him dabbing in front of a crudely drawn mural of a beer can. This time, the caption reads "he is Home", over a geofilter that says "Boystown" in rainbow letters.

"These are sweet," Cecil says as he gazes lovingly at a picture of a starry-eyed Carlos, shirtless and covered in post-surgical dressings.

Nilanjana rolls her eyes, but there's a smirk in her tone when she speaks. "You say that now." She scrolls back until she reaches a video of a dark hospital room.

> "Hey Carlos, how you feeling?" The voice behind the camera asks. It sounds like Nilanjana, though a bit younger and with a thicker accent.
> 
> That's when Carlos comes into focus- perfect, beautiful Carlos, laying in bed wearing a hospital dressing gown. "Soooo goooooood," he sing-songs.
> 
> "That's good. Carlos, would you like to repeat, for the record, what you said to the surgeon when you woke up?"
> 
> Carlos giggles madly. "I said……. Thanks?"
> 
> "More than that."
> 
> "Becaaaaause……….." Carlos laughs for a few more seconds. "I said something like…… I know you're not a psychiatrist but…… thanks for helping me get this off my chest!"
> 
> As Carlos continues giggling, the camera moves to focus on Nilanjana. She's skinnier in the video, and wearing glasses, but still recognizable. "Do you see what I have to put up with?" She asks rhetorically, a noticeable warmth behind her tone.

"He did warn me about his reaction to anaesthesia."

Nilanjana nearly chokes laughing at that. "Oh, you have no idea." She swipes to another video of the same dark room.

> Young, bespectacled Nilanjana is in focus, holding her camera in selfie mode. In the background, Carlos appears to be asleep.
> 
> "I've been wondering for a while, and if you're watching this you've probably wondered as well, why doesn't Carlos have a boyfriend?" Nilanjana glances over her shoulder at the sleeping man before turning back to the camera. "Surely you've thought to yourself, that's an attractive man. He's got perfect hair and a voice like caramel and oak, who wouldn't want that? Well, wonder no more." She sits next to him, bringing her phone in closer to his face.
> 
> "- take home to mom, if my mama was dead- no good, you're up to no good, but damn you look good-"
> 
> "That's right, listeners," Nilanjana whispers, a laugh threatening to steal her voice, "Carlos sings in his sleep. Who knows how many men that's scared off?"
> 
> The voice continues as she zooms out, still smiling at him.
> 
> "S-C-A-N-D to the A to the L-O-U-S, can't handle it-"
> 
> "Oh, Carlos. I'm so showing this video to your future husband, once I meet him."

Cecil's stomach flips. Fuck butterflies, there's a whole smack of jellyfish swarming in there, wriggling and stinging all they can reach in the most pleasant way possible. There's more videos, but he's too emotional to handle them. Nilanjana understands. She also takes down his cell number and texts him some of the better pictures from the folder.

"I've never heard that happen," Cecil finally admits. "Do you think he's outgrown it?"

Nilanjana is about to answer when Teddy Williams enters the waiting room. After the customary greeting of pointing at Nilanjana and growling "INTERLOPER," Teddy beams at the pair. "Great news! The surgery was a success. He should be awake soon, if you want to come with me."

Cecil follows Teddy and Nilanjana, vibrating with excitement. His tattoos still squirm, like they're trying to break free of his skin, but he makes no effort to stop them anymore. When the trio rounds the corner into Carlos' room, he's too overwhelmed to speak. Carlos is there- perfect, beautiful Carlos, smiling sleepily as he blinks awake.

Nilanjana is the first to speak, saying what everyone is thinking. "Hey there handsome, how do you feel?"

Carlos giggles. "I'm… like a butterfly."

"A butterfly?" Cecil hadn't been sure what to expect, but it wasn't that.

"You………… will find out. Later." He tries to wink at Cecil and somehow, adorably, ends up failing. "Butterflies. Butter…… flies. Nils remember our experiments with antigravity? With the butter and the toast and the cats? What happened with that?"

Nilanjana rolls her eyes, but a smile is still visible. "What happened was I had to hide your stash of Red Bull after you managed to duct tape yourself to our toaster."

"Oh." He sounds sad, then quite drunk. "Did I ever tell you that Cecil's cat floats? He's like a little black cloud. I love him. And Cecil. Have I ever told you I love Cecil?"

"Carlos, you've told the  _ world _ that you love Cecil."

Carlos hums happily. "Good." He wriggles until he's nicely cocooned in his hospital bed and wraps his arms around an extra pillow. "When can I go home?"

Cecil looks expectantly at Teddy, who answers, "tomorrow afternoon. I'd like to monitor you overnight and run some more tests in the morning."

"Oh." Carlos pouts, legitimately pouts, and Cecil is overwhelmed by the cuteness.

"Do you want me to drop by the lab and bring you Cecil Jr.?" Nilanjana asks, though she's trying not to laugh by the end of the sentence.

"Maybe?"

Teddy slowly begins edging the pair out of the room. "You should let him rest, for now. His body has a lot of new things to get used to."

"Of course," Cecil sputters, brushing past Teddy just to give Carlos a goodnight kiss on the forehead. "See you soon, bunny. I love you."

"Hmmm, love you too, blossom."

"Blossom?" Nilanjana nudges once they're out of the room.

Cecil shrugs. "I think he's used every pet name in the book for me. I've stopped wondering why." After a few steps he stops. "I do wonder about Cecil Jr., though. That wouldn't be a poppet of me, would it? Because I'm sure that would be both unethical and unscientific."

She laughs. "I can text you about it later. Remind me, okay?" Her eyes widen, on the frightened side of giddy. "And, just a word of advice- if you own any Ke$ha CDs… hide them until he's off the pain meds. I'm suggesting this for your own sanity."

He doesn't mean to look at her phone screen as she walks away. But he does, and he notices her editing his contact name to include a flower emoji.

* * *

> The video is shaky, but Cecil soon recognizes the large Ehrlenmeyer flask that he had once seen a picture of Carlos cuddling. Atop the flask is a large stuffed mole, and "happy mole day!" is written on the whiteboard in the background.
> 
> Presumably filming, Nilanjana's disembodied voice is heard. "Okay Carlos, you're up next!" The voice drops into a whisper. "This is going to be  _ hilarious _ ."
> 
> The camera turns to focus on Carlos. He's even younger than in the previous videos, his gorgeous black hair short and flat-ironed into a fringe but still perfect. There is a decently sized, gift-wrapped box in his lap, which he unwraps meticulously. He wears an eager smile, which drops as soon as the box is open and he pulls some kind of oddly shaped blue plush from it.
> 
> "Nils, what the  _ fuck _ ."
> 
> "What is it?" Asks an unfamiliar voice off-camera.
> 
> "It's a neck pillow-"
> 
> "It's a PENIS." Carlos' voice overlaps with Nilanjana's and drowns her out.
> 
> The camera is now shaking so much that nothing is in focus. "You said you wanted one!" Nilanjana wheezes.
> 
> "Nilanjana Sikdar, I swear on the half-life of uranium that I'll beat your ass."

When he's finished watching the video, Cecil sees that Nilanjana has sent him another picture. In this image, Carlos appears to be asleep at his desk, his face completely covered by his wild (perfect) hair and that same blue plush wrapped around his neck. The image has been captioned "woke up like this #flawless", which Cecil knows from experience is 100% accurate. As he taps to save the image, he accidentally zooms in and notices the plush wearing a nametag that reads "Hi, I'm (Mg, Fe)7Si8O22(OH)2".

_ Cecil: I'm trying so hard not to wake him up by laughing. Oh my god. _

_ Nilanjana: glad to be of service :) _

_ Nilanjana: so he's still asleep? _

_ Cecil: On and off. These pain meds are hitting him hard. :/ _

_ Nilanjana: start to wean him off them. He's really going to need them in a week or so, when the nerves start growing back. You don't want him developing a tolerance before then. _

_ Nilanjana: his top surgery was… rough. _

_ Cecil: Thank you, Dr. Sikdar. _

_ Cecil: For everything. _

_ Cecil: I mean it. _

_ Nilanjana: you too. _

_ Nilanjana: :) <3 _

_ Cecil: … In other news… _

_ Cecil: Cecil Jr.? _

_ Nilanjana: I started calling the pillow that… not long after we got to Night Vale. The name stuck. _

_ Nilanjana: you're not mad, right? _

_ Cecil: Mad? Are you kidding? This is the funniest thing I've seen since Steve Carlsberg tried to wear an argyle sweater vest during fashion week. _

_ Cecil: Can I see him sometime? I have a bow tie. It was supposed to be for Mixtape but when I tried to put it on him, I blacked out and woke up a week later on top of Big Rico's with the tip of my left ulna missing. _

_ Cecil: Cats, you know? _

_ Cecil: WAIT I ALSO HAVE A TINY PAIR OF HEADPHONES THAT MATCH MINE. CAN WE PLEASE PUT THOSE ON CECIL JR.?????? _

_ Nilanjana: how long have you been awake? _

_ Cecil: Sometime between… 21 hours and 9 years? _

_ Cecil: Why do you ask _

Cecil is disturbed from the conversation by a soft humming from the bed. "Carlos?" He calls cautiously.

Carlos isn't fully awake, but not fully asleep either. His humming begins to form mumbled words, which Cecil recognizes individually but not in context.

"Can't breathe when I'm around him… I'll wait here every day, in case he'll scratch the surface… he'll never notice…"

Cecil sits next to Carlos on the bed, laying a hand on his wrist and leaning over to kiss him on the forehead. "I noticed, bunny," he whispers.

"Ceec?" Carlos mumbles as he blinks awake.

"Yeah Carlos, it's me." He presses another chaste kiss to his boyfriend's nose, then one to each of his cheeks. "How are you feeling?"

He stretches slowly, lazily. "Head's all fuzzy. Um, my dick hurts. But not really? Like, it all feels a mile away." His arms find their way around Cecil's neck. "You're so pretty, Cecil. Kiss me?"

Cecil, as always, complies.

Despite how often he'd imagined it over the first year of their friendship, Cecil had been shocked the first time Carlos had kissed him. Even now, nearly three years after that first kiss, Cecil still feels sparks of that same initial shock. Kissing Carlos, feeling his warmth, is easy. Comfortable. But every time he opens his eyes after the kiss and is met with that perfect face, that same spark of  _ how did I get so lucky? _ steals his breath all over again. He lets Carlos resuscitate him repeatedly, endlessly.

It's become second nature to Cecil to, as they lay in bed making out, slot his knee between Carlos' thighs. He doesn't even realize he's done it until something hard and warm presses against his thigh through Carlos' sweatpants. Carlos yelps, not entirely pleasantly. "Baby?" Cecil coos.

Carlos grunts. "Too much. Too soon." He breathes slowly, heavily, for a bit, wincing every few seconds as the bulge in his pants disappears. Finally he sighs and closes his eyes. "I still want this. I still want you. But my body isn't ready yet."

Cecil kisses his temple. "That's okay, bunny."

"It's not okay!" His eyes shoot open before closing slowly again. "What's happening to me right now is… scientifically the most fascinating thing I can imagine. And I want to appreciate that, but my slow healing is annoying. It's getting in the way of my…  _ appreciating _ you."

"Carlos, my sweet, let your body rest and do its science thing." Carlos grunts and begins to pick his head up off the pillow, but Cecil places a finger on his lips and pushes him back down. "Then tell me all about those  _ neat _ sciencey things so you can start running some proper experiments on me."

"You're  _ such  _ a tease. And a brat."

Cecil shudders pleasantly at the last word. "And you love me for it."

* * *

_ Carlos: Put your third eye away. I can feel you staring at me and it's making it hard to get any work done. <3 _

_ Cecil: I can't help watching you! You're cute! _

_ Carlos: And you'd be really creepy if you weren't so adorable. Not to mention scientifically interesting. ;) _

_ Carlos: Cecil baby you're leaving a lot of dead air. Please focus on your broadcast. _

_ Cecil: Make me :P _

_ Carlos: Going to commercial is NOT what I meant. _

_ Cecil: I can either focus on what I'm saying to you, or to the town. You're more fun to talk to. _

_ Cecil: And see? No dead air. _

_ Cecil: I'm great at this. *3* _

_ Carlos: … sure you are, hon. _

_ Cecil: :D _

_ Cecil: This is nice. _

_ Cecil: I've missed you. _

_ Cecil: Sorry, was that weird to say? I mean, I know we live together and I see you every day, but you're so distant. _

_ Cecil: No. That's not right. I shouldn't accuse like that. I meant to say, it feels like you're avoiding me. And… I just want to make sure you're okay. _

_ Cecil: Because I love you. _

_ Cecil: You know that, right? _

_ Cecil: Please answer me. _

_ Carlos: Don't worry about me. I'm fine. _

_ Carlos: A scientist is always fine. _

"Stay tuned next for feelings of doubt and concern that, though you know they stem from love, are exceedingly uncomfortable. And as always, goodnight, Night Vale. Goodnight."

-

_ Carlos: I'm in trouble, Nils. _

_ Nilanjana: JUST TELL HIM THE TRUTH YOU LITTLE SHIT. _

_ Nilanjana: I am serious. I love you but the next time you text me it had better be to tell me about the amazing sex you just had. _

_ Carlos: But _

_ Nilanjana: don't finish that thought. _

_ Nilanjana: he adores you no matter what the fuck is going on with your body. _

_ Nilanjana: you have the best boyfriend in the whole fucking world. _

_ Carlos: hhhhhhhhhhhh _

_ Carlos: he's home. _

_ Nilanjana: GOOD. _

_ Nilanjana: QUIT BEING SUCH A PUSSY AND GIVE YOUR BOYFRIEND SOME DICK. _

_ Nilanjana: I believe in you <3 _

"Carlos? Bunny, are you home?"

Carlos sets down his phone and slinks toward the door leading into the hall.

"Carlos?"

He can hear Cecil getting closer to his home lab, then hears him pass and start walking toward their bedroom. "Cecil?" He calls out cautiously, cracking the door and stepping out.

"Carlos!!!" Cecil turns around and instantly wraps his boyfriend in a tight hug. For the first time in many years, Carlos hesitates to hug him back for a moment. Eventually he gives into Cecil's warmth, melting into the embrace.

"I love you," he whispers into Cecil's chest. "I'm sorry I've been distant these last few weeks."

Cecil tangles his fingers in Carlos' hair. "Don't worry,  _ conejito _ . You're here now, and that's enough."

The word sounds foreign on Cecil's tongue, but that doesn't stop the full-body shiver it causes Carlos. Cecil isn't usually one for pet names, but when he is…  _ fuck _ . Something stirs between Carlos' legs. "I'm… going to take a shower. Been working a long time today. Wait for me?" As Carlos lets go, he angles his head toward their bedroom.

"Of course, dearest."

Carlos watches Cecil walk away, hypnotized by the swing of his hips. He's missed this- their easy chemistry, bathing in Cecil's confidence. His recovery these last few weeks has been far more mental than physical.

He steps into the bathroom and, slowly, reluctantly, uncovers the mirror. As the starry blue tarp drops to the ground, he allows his lab coat to drop as well, followed by his shirt, his jeans, and finally, his boxers. Carlos takes a step closer to the mirror. Closing his eyes, he traces his fingers gently over his scarred chest. He remembers taking off those bandages, getting used to the unnatural flatness, the obvious scarring. He thinks of the long nights spent awake, wondering whether he made the wrong decision. He remembers facing down his reflection and repeating a simple phrase until he believed it:

"It's not perfect. But it's me."

Carlos opens his eyes, hands still covering his pecs. "It's not perfect. But it's me." He smiles, lovingly tracing his own scars. Slowly he lets one hand drift down to his crotch. His breath catches, but he takes a fortifying breath and repeats again, "it's not perfect, but it's me." Carlos remembers catching butterflies as a child, being the only one of his friends to focus on their legs and eyes and proboscises while the other kids fixated on the wings. He thinks of the butterfly's proboscis, long, shiny jet black, and kept in a tight coil. Though on a different scale, it's identical to the thing between his legs. Tentatively he strokes the coil, feels it begin to swell and straighten out. He won't lie, it feels good. It may not be perfect. But it's him. He showers quickly so that his resolve won't disappear.

Once out of the shower, Carlos takes one last look in the mirror before covering it. He's still a tad insecure, but that can't shake his desire to face Cecil. He wraps a towel around his waist and starts for their bedroom.

Inside, Cecil is sprawled on the bed, only half-undressed from work and biting his lip as he reviews a well-worn copy of  _ My Immortal _ . He's so beautiful in this unguarded state that Carlos' heart aches. "Hey gorgeous," he croons to get his attention.

Even from across the room, it's obvious that Cecil's pupils dilate. He gives Carlos a slow once-over. "Hello yourself." Cecil sets the book aside before sitting up fully, licking his lips, and standing to cross over to Carlos.

"Cecil, I want to apologize," Carlos begins hesitantly. "I've never wanted to push you away."

Cecil shakes his head and looks away. “You h-”

“Don’t tell me I haven’t. I know I have. And don’t tell me it’s fine, because it isn’t.” Carlos strokes Cecil’s jaw to redirect his face. “I want to fix it.” He drops his arms and eyes as soon as Cecil faces him, suddenly unable to withstand that gaze.

Cecil's arms are crossed, though more defensive and hurt than angry. "Why did you keep me away though?"

He doesn't want to look up into Cecil's eyes, because he knows they'll have tears threatening to spill from them. He looks up anyway. "The same reason as it was four years ago, when I first fell in love with you. I was afraid that you wouldn't love me anymore once you realized I wasn't what you thought I was." Behind those tears that refuse to fall, Carlos finds his resolve. "But then I realized that I'm still me, and that's all you've ever thought I was."

Cecil smiles, and the first tear finally drops. "You're right, Carlos. I'll love you for whatever you are."

"I was scared, Cecil. I thought you loved me because I was human. If I'm not 100% human anymore?"

"Then we finally have a similarity to celebrate."

Carlos takes a deep breath and a step back. His shaking hands meet at the knot holding up his bath towel, and he lets it drop in one agonizing second.

“Oh. You weren’t kidding.”

There were many outcomes of this scenario that Carlos had pictured. He had imagined Cecil being disgusted, or afraid, or any number of undesirable reactions. He had failed to consider the one outcome that was happening before his eyes- Cecil dropping instantly to his knees to be eye-level with the slowly straightening coil.

“Carlos, fuck, this is beautiful,” Cecil murmurs, his lips almost brushing the oil-slick-black skin as he talks. “May I?” His hand trails up Carlos’ thigh to rest on the coil. Carlos can only nod, transfixed. Cecil cups the coil in his hands and kisses a line down, wrapping his fists around it as it fills out and straightens. “This is really gorgeous, Carlos. What have you done with it so far?”

Carlos nearly chokes. “Nothing. Certainly nothing like this.”

“Shame,” is all the warning Cecil gives before sucking the tip of the- well, it’s not really a coil anymore, whatever it is- into his mouth.

Carlos is harder than he’s ever been, feels something about to snap in the nerves behind his dick. It’s not an orgasm, he’s pretty sure of that much, but beyond that he can’t tell what’s going on. “Cecil-” he tries to warn, just in case it is a premature orgasm, but Cecil only sucks harder until he chokes and pulls away sputtering.

“Lights in the sky,” Cecil growls, voice unusually hoarse. “This just got so much hotter.” He gives Carlos’ dick a few strokes, prompting Carlos to look down, and-

Oh.

Oh  _ fuck _ .

Where his dick had just been ramrod-straight, angling perfectly into Cecil’s mouth, it was now curved and twitching of its own accord. No, not twitching,  _ writhing _ . Briefly Carlos considers that in addition to its own endocrine system, the appendage must have its own nervous system, similar to the tentacles of an octopus. He doesn’t get very far down this thought path before Cecil sucks the tentacle back into his mouth, ridding him of thought. “Cecil?” He only moans in response. “Shit, Cecil, I can’t even describe how this feels.” It’s true. The longer this goes on, the more aware he is of the individual nerves and slight involuntary movements of the tentacle. He’s holding still, holding Cecil in place by the hair, and yet his new nerves are all alight with friction. The tip of the tentacle, which seems to have swollen into something like the head of a penis, he realizes is thrusting itself into Cecil’s throat of its own will. Distantly, beyond the bright haze of pleasure, Carlos realizes he should feel mortified, that he should be apologizing right now. But even if he had the ability to force the words out between moans; he realizes that Cecil, all three eyes open and rolled back into his head, gripping Carlos’ thighs like a lifeline, is enjoying this. That realization hits him like a train and takes him dangerously close to orgasm. “Cecil, stop!” Carlos finally manages to grunt, tugging him away by the hair. He needs to take control back.

“Have I made my stance on your new anatomy clear yet?”

Carlos’ knees go weak. He’s never heard Cecil sound so thoroughly fucked,  _ used _ , before, and the sound of that honey voice coming out wrecked is far more of a turn-on than he’d anticipated. “Get on the bed,” he commands, “on your back.”

Cecil, sweet, obedient, Cecil, complies. As he nears the bed, he undoes the drawstring of his capris and tosses them along with his cardigan, leaving him in nothing but a shirt unbuttoned to the navel as he lays down. Carlos soon follows. He stops to take a bottle of lube from the nightstand before stealing Cecil's book and glasses and a few kisses, kneeling between his spread legs.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Cecil smiles. “Are you okay?”

“Nervous.” Carlos lubes up the fingers of the hand that’s not holding up his body and begins to stroke around Cecil’s hole before pushing in. At least this part is familiar, if nothing else. “Excited.” As he adds a second finger, Cecil kisses the wrist that is conveniently next to his face. “There’s no one else in the world, in history, I’d rather be with right now.”

Cecil arches his back at the words, drawing Carlos’ fingers in deeper and making him nudge against his prostate. He gasps softly, and the noise sends a flicker of movement through Carlos’ tentacle. The movement is so foreign that Carlos wonders if he’ll ever get used to it. He makes up his mind to never stop trying. Cecil keens as Carlos scissors his fingers inside him.

“Come on,” Cecil whines, “fuck me.”

Carlos twists his fingers a few more times just to be sure, pressing a kiss to Cecil’s neck as he pulls out. He intends to move on, but he feels stuck there, sucking and licking and relishing in the soft warmth of the delicate skin. His tattoos wriggle in response, as if fighting for Carlos’ attention. He pulls away and watches the stars on Cecil’s neck spark and fizzle in defiance. Cecil angles his hips up. Carlos reaches down and strokes the tentacle, mostly just to get used to the feeling before he’s overwhelmed by being inside Cecil, and he notices that it is secreting some form of lubricant. That’s. Well. That’s a lot to take in. Making a conscious effort not to get distracted by this, Carlos wraps his fist around the tip of the tentacle and poises it at Cecil’s entrance. “You’re ready?”

Cecil makes a noise not unlike the insistent hum of a honeybee's wings in response, bringing one leg up to stroke Carlos’ side with his knee. Slowly, Carlos pushes in. Once he's about halfway in, the arm he's using to prop himself up crumples, and he drops to his elbow. His forehead rests on Cecil's shoulder as he pants. Cecil pets his hair, but Carlos can hear his heartbeat well enough to know that he's barely holding it together. Cecil whines as the last few inches sheathe themselves.

"Cecil?"

He takes a moment to catch his breath. "Yeah bunny?"

"Marry me."

Before Cecil can answer, the tentacle wriggles around and flicks at something inside him. Whatever he had meant to say was lost to the iron will of Carlos' libido. Carlos kisses him as he softly, slowly, begins to piston his hips.

"I- fuck, Cecil- I wanted this to- umfh- I won't last much longer."

Cecil grinds against the friction, both his legs now locked around the small of Carlos' back. "I won't either," he pants between kisses. "Can you- ah fuck- pull out? I- I want to see it."

After one slow roll of his hips, Carlos complies. As he sinks back down to grind their erections (does the tentacle count as an erection anymore, now that it's moving fluidly?) together, he feels a distinctly strange and oddly pleasurable movement in the tentacle that he definitely had not predicted or controlled. In between their bodies, it's wrapped itself around Cecil's cock like a corkscrew. He bites his lip as he thrusts, just a small handful of times before Cecil's orgasmic moan rumbles through the room and he's run over by his own release. Cecil shudders so hard he vibrates when Carlos collapses onto him.

"I almost blacked out there for a second, damn," Cecil chuckles after a minute. Carlos slowly rolls over and off him. "Looks like you actually did."

Confused, Carlos looks at Cecil's stomach, his unbuttoned shirt framing staining stripes of pearly white and inky black on his flushed skin. "I certainly didn't expect the color," he sputters.

Cecil shrugs. "I think further experimentation will be necessary." Seconds pass by languidly, like clouds. "Did you mean it? What you asked earlier?"

Carlos freezes. "That's not at all how I intended to ask. But I did mean it. I do. Want you to. Marry me."

Their fingers interlock. "I will."

"I have a ring, I swear, it's at the lab because I didn't want you to find it yet. Um.” Carlos hesitates a moment, turning serious. “I’ll give it to you on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You don’t get to tell your listeners  _ anything _ about how I proposed.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @nobutseriouslywhat or twitter/tiktok @alonelylion


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